138 Bo^-Trotting' for Orchids 



from the glen, through Amidon's Pities. I had soon 

 passed beyond the limits of this sheltering wood, mak- 

 ing a gradual ascent through the raspberry pastures 

 of John-Fallow. 



The higher I climbed the harder it poured. How- 

 ever, I arrived among the low white birch saplings and 

 berry bushes. Here I managed to shake the rain 

 off them, becoming as bedraggled as though I had 

 waded in a stream. My umbrella began to leak, 

 and my cap and hair were being soaked, the water 

 actually running down my face. Entering the deeper 

 underwood of birches, I aroused a flock of sheep and 

 their lambs. They ran bleating after me, asking for 

 salt. A mother followed me closely, stamped the earth 

 with her tiny feet, showing her petulance and fear ; 

 although she did not turn and run from me as I ven- 

 tured nearer, but rubbed her nose against my hand. 



I now began descending the western slopes of John- 

 Fallow, and was in sight of the woods closing about 

 Witch Hollow. Upon entering the thicket, I soon 

 found my colonies of Orchis spedabilis, which were not 

 yet unfolded, although it was May 20th. The Cypri- 

 pediums had come in far ahead of them this season. 



The group of Ram's-Head also disappointed me, the 

 buds having been blasted in embryo. The plants, 

 however, looked healthy and promising. 



Chilled through as I was on my way out of the 

 woods, I thought of stopping at the nearest house on 

 Butternut lyane for a drink of hot milk. I refrained, 

 however, because of my fog-covered garments and the 



